


All Grown Up

by Syls Darkplace (sylsdarkplace)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:24:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylsdarkplace/pseuds/Syls%20Darkplace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam/Dean. Sam is back with Dean, but he isn’t the little brother Dean remembers. Takes place early in Season 1.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Grown Up

“So, I’ve been thinking about the case,” Sam said as he walked out of the bathroom in just a towel. “If all these people died on the full moon ...”

Dean wasn’t listening. His eyes went wide and blood rushed to his cock so fast that he felt lightheaded. Sam was still talking, but Dean didn’t hear him. He hadn’t seen Sam like this before. He hadn’t seen him in less than a t-shirt and jeans for years. Before he’d gone to Stanford he was tall, sure, but long, lanky, coltish. But this guy was, well, yeah, he was, and Dean just watched as Sam turned his back to him and dropped the towel as he dug in his duffle bag for underwear. Dean almost moaned.

Dean had never looked at Sam this way, but then that wasn’t the bicep he’d stitched up when Sam was 15 or the chest he’d stitched a year later. That wasn’t the lip he’d put ice on or the snotty little nose he’d wiped. Those weren’t the legs that wrapped around his waist for piggy back rides and that sure as hell wasn’t the ass he’d rubbed diaper cream on.

But here Dean was now, Jessica just six weeks dead, staring at his naked brother with a hard on. Maybe, his dick just mistook Sam for some random guy Dean had picked up in a bar.. Now he just needed to convince his dick that was the case. Dean turned away and adjusted his cock in his jeans.

“Dean, you okay?”

“Yeah, fine.”

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Oh, sorry, I need to take a piss.”

“Yeah, right, I’m done in there.”

“I said piss.”

“Whatever, turn the fan on.”

Dean stalked into the bathroom trying to hide the raging hard on that threatened to burst the zipper of his jeans, and as soon as the door was shut, he had his jeans down around his ankles and his hand on his cock. He squeezed it and bit back a moan. He reached over and turned on the fan to mask any noise. Fuck, this wasn’t going to just go away. He leaned on the sink with one hand and fisted his cock with the other. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to visualize – Jo’s sweet little ass, Pamela’s pert tits, upstroke, twist, Lisa’s glistening clit; long muscular legs, hard, round ass; fuck, okay, generic boobs, thumb over slit, that waitress in Tupelo, pussy, down stroke, squeeze, wet, messy; defined pecs, flat abs, treasure trail to … shit … No matter what he did he couldn’t stop seeing his brother’s body, new and utterly hot.

It must have been that the sound of the exhaust fan covered up the sound of the door opening, but he didn’t hear a thing until the sound of his name right behind him. His eyes flew open and met Sam’s in the mirror.

“You need a hand with that?” Sam’s voice sounded raw. Dean could feel the heat coming off his brother; Sam’s breath on his neck.

“Sam.”

Their eyes were locked in the mirror as Sam’s arms slid around Dean’s waist. One hand came to rest on Dean’s stomach the other covered the hand gripping Dean’s cock, and Dean drew in a sharp breath. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t Sam who didn’t kiss a girl til he was 15, was still virgin til prom night. This wasn’t even the Sam who couldn’t sleep for the nightmares about Jess, who still railed against Dad. This was a shapeshifter, a demon. But the eyes in the mirror belonged to Sam; the new Sam who was no longer in his older brother’s shadow, who knew his own mind without recrimination or guilt, who apparently liked guys as much as Dean did.

Sam’s hand tightened around Dean’s and slid it up the shaft, twisted it clumsily over the head. Dean moaned as Sam repeated the movement with more coordination. The hand on Dean’s stomach pulled him back against his brother’s body. The hard ridge of Sam’s cock pressed into the crease of Dean’s ass with only the thin cotton of Sam’s boxers between them. Sam rolled his hips, and Dean imagined it filling him. His head fell back onto Sam’s shoulder as Sam continued stroking the throbbing, traitorous shaft. Sam licked along Dean’s shoulder and sucked the skin of his throat into his mouth, lip and teeth working to start a sting that would bruise. He kissed a path to Dean’s ear.

“I want to fuck you.”

Dean moaned, both turned on and appalled at how hot that idea was. It wasn’t just that this was his brother, but Dean didn’t usually get into bottoming. He liked to be in control, but this ... this thing Sam was doing ...

“Say, yes.”

“Sam.”

“Say it.”

“Yes, yes.”

The chill of air hit Dean’s dick as Sam moved his hand away to push his boxers down, and then the hand was back pushing Dean’s shoulders forward over the sink as his other hand pulled Dean’s hips back.

“Lube, Sam.”

“I got it.”

Sam’s hands left him for only a moment, and Dean made himself not look back. Sam was driving this train, and Dean was trying to go with it. Sam grasped Dean’s hip firmly again and held him still as a slick finger circled the tense hole and pushed to the first knuckle, the second, third, and rubbed over his prostate as it withdrew. It was joined by a second finger, pressing, rubbing, twisting, and Dean pushed back with his hips, fucking himself on Sam’s fingers.

“Ugh, come on, Sam.”

The hand on his hip disappeared and then came down with a loud crack on Dean’s ass. “Shut up, Dean, you aren’t calling the shots here.” Dean looked up to meet storm dark eyes in the mirror. “Not moving fast enough for you? Fine.” The slick fingers pulled out, leaving Dean tipping his ass up like a slut. Begging, he was begging his brother to fuck him. Sam glanced down, and then the blunt head of his cock was pushing against his needy hole. And, fuck, Sam was huge and Dean wasn’t ready. It was splitting him open, and Dean moaned. Finally the head popped in.

“Sam, oh God.”

“That enough for you?” Sam’s fingers were digging into Dean’s hips and pulling him back as Sam pushed forward. “God, you’re so tight. I know I’m not the first though am I?”

“Ngh, no, no.”

“No, because you’re a slut, Dean. Pussy or dick, you really aren’t picky, are you?”

Wait, maybe this was a shapeshifter because this couldn’t be Sam. Sam wouldn’t talk like that. Sam was ... a thought came to Dean too late.

“Sam, condom?”

“Fuck that. We’re careful with other people, and you need a reminder dripping out of your ass all day that you aren’t driving.” A splurt of precome from Dean’s cock hit the floor, and Dean felt just like the slut Sam was accusing him of being. Dean shut up and concentrated on just holding still. The conversation wasn’t even distracting him from the pain, the burn that just didn’t stop as his brother’s cock filled him. He dropped his head and panted. Surely, there had to be a limit. When Sam was in him to the hilt, he paused and twisted his hips a little.

“You want to drive, Dean? Huh?”

“No, Sam.”

“Huh? What do you want?’

“Sam,” Dean used his characteristic growl.

Sam leaned over with his lips against Dean’s ear. “Say it.”

Dean huffed out a breath and in any other situation would have stalked away, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He couldn’t.

“Fuck me.”

“Is that the best you can do?”

“Please. Fuck me, Sam, please.”

Sam’s tongue traced the shell of Dean’s ear. “That’s better.” Sam pulled back with a slow drag of skin to the head before slamming back into Dean with enough force to rattle his teeth. Dean grunted and bit his lip. Sam continued to pull Dean back onto his cock with every thrust, and Dean was just trying to stay on his feet. Like in dancing, Sam was leading and all Dean could do was relax and follow. And when he did ... dropping his chest onto the countertop, the angle brought Sam’s cock over his prostate again and again. Dean’s dick was steadily drooling now.

Sam was pounding into him with all the anger and grief and fear that he’d been carrying the past few weeks, and Dean took it all. This wasn’t Sammy. His little brother was gone, and what was emerging was a whole new beast. But Dean wanted it like he’d wanted nothing before. Blood was pounding in his ears and vision was going dark. Dean reached for his dick and got another crack on the ass.

“No. No touching. You’ll come on my dick or not at all.”

“You son of a bitch. Who are you?” Dean gasped. “You’re not Sam.”

“Fuck you.” Sam slammed into him again. “I’m what’s left.” Slam. “You like this?” Slam. “A little pain, huh?” Slam. “That’s our life.” Slam. “Welcome home, Sam.”

“Sam, Jesus, Sam.” Dean gripped the edge of the sink with white knuckles. Sweat was running in his eyes mixing with his tears, and he felt hot and cold by turns. Sam’s fingers were slipping in his sweat slick skin, and his teeth sank into Dean’s shoulder. The tension pooling in Dean’s gut exploded and the come splattering his chest was like molten lead. His channel clenched around Sam’s cock, and Sam pulled Dean onto his cock, rocking through his orgasm, filling Dean slick and hot.

“Dean, God, Dean.” They both sank to their knees with Sam’s dick still seated inside him. He kissed Dean’s neck, nuzzled the soft brush at his hairline. “Are you okay?” His arms were wrapped around Dean’s chest now, holding them together groin to shoulders.

Dean let his head fall back on his brother’s shoulder again. He nodded. “Yeah. awesome.”

Sam huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, me too.”

**The End**

_Thank you for reading. I would love to hear from you._

 

 


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